


Ain’t How You Hit the Bar

by Anika_Ann



Series: What We Could Have, But We'll Never Reach - Reader Inserts [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: And She's a Librarian, Attempt at Humor, BRING IT, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter References, Human Disaster You, Josie's, Meet-Cute, Post-Break Up, Reader's Idea of a Fun Evening Is Reading a Book, Reader-Insert, Someone Restart My Brain I Need to Study, The Princess Bride References, btw I like that tag how has no one used it before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 19:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15178109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann
Summary: So, apparently it’s not common to sit at home and read on Friday night. Only boring and pathetic people do that. You wouldn’t care, but you’re reading the same line over and over, your ex’s intrusive voice in your ear.You can either track him down and hit him, or you could hit the bar. You go for the latter.





	Ain’t How You Hit the Bar

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry for ruining the beautiful quote by this title. Does it even make sense?
> 
> By the way, I think it’s perfectly fine to be at home and read on Friday night. It’s what I would choose. 
> 
> I really wanted to add some Guardians of Time references too, but I only remembered I loved those books and that there was a guy named Arkarian. And then I remembered he was tortured at some point and I added the first paragraph. Ha!

You really wanted to focus on the poor Arkarian getting tortured, but it was actually torturing you, because you had to read the same line at least four times to realize what the words meant. It was a very slow way to read. You groaned in despair, closing the book with a muffle thud. This wasn’t going to work. There was only one way to shush the stupid voice in your head; give in.

\---

The intimidating woman – Josie, probably? – slid two bottles of cider in your direction. You eyed her, confused.

“Uhm… excuse me, I only ordered one-“

“I know. It’s from Nelson and Murdock, on their tab.”

Who the hell were Nelson and Murdock? You looked around, scanning the surroundings for someone who was probably watching you. A guy in a business suit, with longish blond hair and cute friendly smile, raised his beer in wordless ‘cheers’. Next to him, there was a nice lean blond woman in flowery dress doing the same, but with more subtlety. A dark-haired man in round red-toned sunglasses was smiling inconspicuously at his own bottle, until the other one nudged him and he looked up – no, didn’t ‘look’, there was a white cane resting against the wall, which also explained the glasses worn inside, _blind_ – and joined them.

You gave them one perfectly confused awkward smile before turning back to the bartender and paying for one of your drinks. Why did they buy you a drink? You were pretty sure they weren’t hitting on you. That was what people did at bars, right? Bought a drink to someone who caught their eye?  

It wasn’t like you would know. This was your second time being in a bar. The first time, your new ‘friends’ – just colleagues at the time, really – had taken you out for drinks after discovering you hadn’t celebrated your 21st birthday with alcohol; apparently, it hadn’t matter they had been four years late, because they insisted on you going. That night, you had met Dylan, your – now ex for more than a week, which was exactly one half of the time you had spent dating – boyfriend. He was the reason why you were out for drinks tonight.

Unsure what to do, afraid of getting into an awkward conversation, you crawled back into your corner with two bottles instead of the one you ordered, not looking their direction again. Well, you better start drinking, considering the previous two had taken you over an hour to finish. You really didn’t see the appeal of drinking, not in a bar, not anywhere else.

You knew this was ridiculous. Dylan was a jerk. Hell, he was a _dick_. Still, what he had told you had gotten to you. So you weren’t exactly a-

Something hit the leg of your table, snapping you from your broody thoughts. You glanced up in surprise – only to see one of the men from earlier standing in front of you. The dark-haired one. _The blind one_.

“Excuse me, miss?” he addressed… you? Really? You panicked, yet tried to keep yourself composed. Would it be rude to pretend you weren’t there? It wasn’t like he could see you… you mentally slapped yourself for that mean thought.

“Uhm… talking to me, sir?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Oh. O-okay. What can I do for you?”

“Well, my friends over there bought you a drink, because-“ he started explaining and you let your panic out.

“If you want me to, I’ll pay for it! If it was like I bought you a drink so now you have to go with me to the bathroom-“

The man in front of you frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “That ever happened to you? That’s terrible.”

You opened your mouth uselessly, confused. What?

“It wasn’t like that. It was just an invitation. They were just wondering if you wanted company, why you were here alone,” he explained, his expression clearing, returning to the relatively friendly one – harmless one.

You blinked. “Oh.” His only reaction was to tilt his head as if he was now wondering about the strangeness of this situation as well. “Well, you can tell your friends that I’m here because going to a bar on Friday night is apparently something normal people do,” you muttered, partly hoping he didn’t understand what you said with all the noise around.

“But not you,” he offered slowly and you shrugged. And then you realized he couldn’t see that. Shit. You should be more attentive, considering who you usually hung out with.

“Not me.” You drank from you cider, downing a half with one go. _Go, me_. “Apparently, that makes me boring.”

The man leaned a little closer, his voice kind. “I don’t see how that makes you boring. People have different ideas of fun.”

He was so nice to you. It was… weird. It pushed you over the edge, for some unreasonable reason making you snap, the levee holding your anger and frustration breaking.

“Sure do. Well, the thing is, when you meet someone in a bar, you expect them to have that idea of fun. Then, you maybe find out they don’t, but you think they might at least be a good laid, because it’s often the quiet ones, they can be a great fuck and some serious screamers. So you string them along a little to find out, and in the end, it turns out it was so not worth it. Can you imagine the disappointment? Of course, you have to let them know how drastically boring, weird and pathetic they are,” you finished sarcastically, watching the corner of his mouth twitch.

It only stroke you few seconds later what you just did.

“Oh my god,” you blurted out, covering your mouth, looking everywhere but at him, utterly embarrassed. “Oh god. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… say that. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. That’s quite a story you have here. I suppose you’re the quiet one?” he noted, not really asking. What was strange was he didn’t seem either offended by you monologue, neither repelled. He didn’t even sound like he was mocking you.

You eyed him hesitantly; the corners of his lips were raised inconspicuously. You let yourself relax a little. “What gave it away?”

“Just a hunch,” he replied, most likely noticing you were less embarrassed now, because he smiled a little wider. He had a nice smile. He was _nice_.

“How are you still here? I was rude to you _and_ I loaded a ton of bull— _crap_ on you within the first three minutes we talk. Well, mostly me.”

He shrugged. “I was told I have one of those faces,” he joked lightly. Not self-conscious about his blindness? Check. You found yourself smiling as well.

“Is that why they sent you instead of coming by themselves?”

“Yeah.” He made a pause. “That and I lost rock-paper-scissors.”

That startled a real laugh from you, the tension in your shoulders finally resolving. You couldn’t help but test your theory. “Really? That? Why not drawing straws? That you could easily check. How do you know they didn’t cheat?”

He grinned, a cute boyish grin creating dimples in his cheeks. “I don’t.”

You realized that if for nothing else, then for meeting _this_ guy was going to the bar tonight worth it.

So you told him so, because you brain-mouth filter apparently had taken a vacation tonight, drinking margarita on a beach somewhere warm and sunny.

“I think that’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received.”

“I choose not to believe that,” you opposed him, realizing you could feel the warmth of his smile and personality luring you in. Despite not being exactly the most sociable person (understatement of the year), you found yourself wanting to keep talking to him, to a complete stranger. In a bar, no less.

“You can always ask someone else,” he noted brilliantly, his smile softening. “Care to join us?

Your gaze flickered to their table, noticing the other guy was watching the exchange between you and the nice guy. He seemed to be another nice guy. And there was the blonde to balance the testosterone.

To hell with it, if you were doing this, you were doing it with everything you could.

“Yeah. I think I do.”

You took your two bottles of cider, following the blind man – oh god, you were letting a blind man to lead, the irony was not lost on you – and reaching the almost full table.

“So, Matt, did you find out why is the lovely lady drinking alone?” the guy asked cheerfully and you glanced at the man in question, actually delighted.

“Matt. Better than ‘the really nice guy,” you noted as you set you drinks down.

The other guy gasped. “Matthew, did you not introduce yourself? Where are you manners?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I left them in the office.”

“That’s not very wise, mister Murdock, leaving them lying there,” the blonde mocked him. “My boss is blind, he could trip over them. I’m Karen.”

You introduced yourself as well, grinning against your will as you heard _Matt_ next to you whisper _‘rude’._ You ended up sitting next to him.

“And I’m Foggy. So why were you drinking alone again?”

You opened your mouth uselessly, thinking of a short and less embarrassing explanation than the one you had given to Matt.

“She’s trying to understand the appeal of going to a bar,” Matt came to rescue, earning a grateful smile he couldn’t perceive.

“Alone? Well, let me know when you figure that out. For me, it’s all about the company,” Foggy stated, patting both Matt and Karen’s shoulders.

“I’m starting to see that,” you admitted.

“Also, I’m not sure if Josie’s the bar you should have tried. It’s… very specific,” Karen added and Matt with Foggy just hummed in agreement.

“Not wrong there. But I’m glad you have,” Matt offered kindly, making your heart flutter in happiness. You had to stop yourself from leaning closer to the warmth you felt even stronger now. He raised his beer. “To the _specific_ atmosphere you can only experience at Josie’s.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

\---

Your head hurt a little when you woke up the following morning. It didn’t stop you from smiling, remembering Foggy and Matt walking Karen and later you home.

 _‘You’re awfully cheerful for someone who should be hangover,’_ Hannah signed at you, the first thing to say to you when you walked into the kitchen.

“Just in a good mood,” you strike back, making sure she can see you to read your lips. She narrowed her eyes.

‘I’m letting it slide. For now. Expecting an explanation later.’

“You got it.”

\---

The thing was, you were smiling whole day; even Lucy who was at the desk next to you noticed.

“What’s up with your face?” she teased lightly, not malicious note in her voice.             

You ignored her question since you got a teen standing at your desk to return some vampire romance stuff; you weren’t sure what exactly was this series about, having trouble catching up with every new vampire book published despite trying to read as much as possible so you could recommend a good read to anyone who came to the library clueless.

“I went out last night. To a _bar_ ,” you replied proudly and she gaped at you, looking honestly shocked.

“Did you lose a bet with someone? Are you okay? Did it hurt?”

You rolled your eyes at her sarcasm. “Ha, ha, ha. No. Yes. No.” You made a short pause, remembering it not only hadn’t hurt, but it had been actually pleasant – and recalling _why_ it had been that way. “I had fun.”

“You had _fun?_  Just how much did you have last night? Are you still drunk?” she asked, lowering her voice.

You shrugged with a silent laugh. “Maybe.”

But not on alcohol.

\---

Three nights later, Hannah caught you picking an outfit to go out again. You weren’t giving it much thought, but hey, at least you should wear something different than the last time.

She knocked on the doorframe since the door to your room was ajar. You almost had a heart attack, spinning to her rapidly.

‘Are you going out again?’

Honestly, your sister’s expression spoke louder than her hands. Was that a weird thing to think?

“Yeah.”

‘Where? I think it’s time for you to tell me about your bar night.’

You shook your head and her eyebrows rose.

‘Are you keeping a secret from me? How dare you! I’m older, I’m responsible for you.’

“I’ll tell you about it later, okay? Maybe tonight. Maybe I’ll come home early, because they won’t even be there,” you offered, grimacing after. It was stupid. Maybe you would come in and spin on your heels when you wouldn’t find them there. Still, you wanted to try.

‘Who?’

You smiled involuntarily. “Friends. I think.”

\---

The trio of Nelson and Murdock law office _was_ there. Playing a pool. Oh boy. Foggy noticed you the moment you came in, waving wildly at you. You smiled and walked their direction with no hesitation.

“Matt, the lady you didn’t behave right in front of is here,” he announced cheerfully and Matt straightened from his striking position, leaning onto the billiard cue.

“Hi, Lady I Didn’t Behave Right In Front Of,” Matt greeted you with a smile that you didn’t want to admit made your heart speed up. Come on! You just met him and might be becoming friends with him! Why was your heart having silly ideas like developing a crush on Matt?

 _Because he’s nice, funny, handsome and when you walked in, you had his ass on display and it was a marvelous view._ You shake your head lightly to get rid of that thought. _Oh. Shut. Up._

“I have a name, you know.”

“They know. But they blush when they say it. Especially-“ Karen started, but got cut off by Matt’s voice.

“We know your name, (y/n),” he reassured you and Karen giggled. What were you missing? “So, you’re here to drink?”

The line left your mouth surprisingly easily. “No. For the company.”

\---

“Oh no, I don’t play, I don’t even know how. Watching you guys is just fine.” You really shouldn’t have said that. Foggy had gone for another round and Karen had gone to the bathroom.

“You really aren’t much of a bar type, are you?” Matt teased you and you gaped at him.

“Really? Joking about it already?”

“It was just a statement,” he opposed, but his smile seemed more hesitant now.

“You mock my pain!” you cried out silently and the beautiful grin was back as he recognized you weren’t offended.  Oh God, this was _so bad_ , my _heart_.

Matt cleared his throat and bowed a little. “My apologies, princess.”

“You keep mocking me. Yes, I’m a bookworm and enough of a bookworm to work in a public library. Go for it. Fire away.”

His eyebrow went high above his glasses. “You realize I recognized the line, right? Which makes me a bit of a nerd?”

“Okay. Fair,” you laughed it off. It physically hurt not to snuggle him. _Christ. Two evenings, girl. You got it bad_. “Still, Matt, that was rude.”

“I’m sorry. Accept me teaching you how to beat Foggy in pool as an apology?”

You thought of his long fingers always feeling the white ball as Foggy or Karen directed him to it, imagining they would fix your hold on the cue, maybe your stance. You gulped. That was a terrible idea.   

“I know better than underestimate someone, hell, I saw you play, but I’m not sure about a blind man teaching me how to play pool…?” you offered carefully, making sure it didn’t sound offensive. With Hannah being deaf your whole life, you and your sister had an understanding. You had enough opportunities the last time you had been there to learn that Matt wasn’t ashamed for his disability, but you really liked him and you didn’t want to piss him off. Last time, you had been a bit drunk and he had still been a stranger, so you hadn’t care too much. Now…

“Know better, hm?”

“My sister. She’s deaf, that’s actually why we moved to New York few years back, better job opportunities for her. Anyway, she’s… unique. And she can be devilish.”

“Well, my grandma would say the say the same about me,” he shrugged casually and you sighed in relief. Not pissed off then, or at least not too much. “So that’s a no, huh?”

Did he really look slightly disappointed? No, that wasn’t— okay, his smile did falter a little and he went for his beer only to realize there wasn’t one. You _wanted_ Matt to smile again. Shit, you were about to get a heart attack, no doubt, but you made up your mind.

“You know what? Yes. Show me. But I want to beat Karen too.”

He smirked. He freaking smirked and you suddenly understood he hadn’t been kidding about him being devilish too. You could see the little Devil right there. It shifted your insides in a very uncomfortable and very pleasant way.

“Deal.”

You fought the urge to ask him whether he was sealing deals with writing in blood or preferred a kiss.

\---

You had been right. It was a terrible idea. And possibly the best idea ever. If you didn’t knew better, you would think Matt was trying to _seduce_ you. There was a lot of fumbling around. And Karen and Foggy were taking their sweet time; it was suspicious.

You were totally drunk by the time Foggy brought another round and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. Matt seemed unfazed by your previous _very close_ interaction, which made the fact your crush was highly inappropriate perfectly clear.

You didn’t finish your last drink, leaving shortly after you had sunk the eight ball during a match with Foggy; on purpose.

\---

‘Are you gonna tell me?’ your beloved sister cornered you the next morning as you were trying to breathe in the toast you made yourself for breakfast, putting on your shoes at the same time; you were very late. Because you had forgotten to set your alarm last night. Because you were too busy thinking about Matt’s fingers on you. And his smile. And about what a pathetic person you were, having a crush at someone so obviously charming that he had a line of women – and possibly men – trying to get his attention.

You finally put on your second flat, signing her an answer.

‘Later.’

Hannah threw her hands in the air. ‘You’re avoiding me!’

‘I promise to tell you today, okay? I’m really late.’ You added an apologizing expression to mollify her and she pouted. ‘I promise.’

‘Fine.’

\---

“You’re late,” Lucy sing-sang cheerfully as you stumbled to your desk, out of breath, leaning onto its edge.

“I know, thirty seven minutes. I’m so sorry.”

Lucy didn’t seem to mind, grinning. “Well, it’s your loss anyway.”

You raised your eyebrow, looking at her clueless, still trying to breathe in like a normal person. She stuck out her tongue at you – _Lucy, we are in a child section, yes, but you don’t have to behave like a child_ – and paid attention to her visitor.

You circled your desk, falling into your chair – only to find a book over your keyboard. You frowned at it, hearing Lucy giggle. Was that her doing?

“Lucy?” you addressed her sweetly. “Why is there an encyclopedia of… Ranunculaceae on my desk?”

Ranunculaceae. _Buttercup family?_

Your colleague just shrugged. “Don’t look at _me_. He asked for it, flipped through several pages, thanked me and left it there.”

“Who?”

You flipped through the pages absently, frowning. Lucy should be annoyed at this – it wasn’t uncommon for some brats to hide very inappropriate pictures between the pages and this was kinda obvious tactics.  Why was she-

You blinked in surprise when you indeed found a paper that certainly didn’t belong to the book, your heart hammering all of sudden.

 _Buttercup family._ _Sweet._ The corners of your turned upwards, warm feeling spreading in your chest. How the hell…?

 ** _Josie’s tonight? Must have messed up the teaching part_** , read the note. The handwriting was so bad it must have either belong to a child… or to someone who hadn’t been able to see his own handwriting in years.

“He was really hot, by the way.”

“Huh?” You looked up from the scrambled letters.

“The guy who left it here. He was really hot,” Lucy repeated, laughter in her voice. “I kinda envy you.”

 _You’re joking? I kinda envy me._ How did Matt even know where you worked? Of course, he knew you were working in a library and there weren’t that many libraries around, but still… and the fact he had chosen that book, _asking_ you to come tonight? That was… that wasn’t exactly _friendly¸_ was it?

You bit your lip, feeling the famous butterflies in your stomach despite warning yourself not to give in the ridiculous hope.

“Did he smile?” you asked, running your fingers over the note gingerly, making sure you didn’t just dream it up.

“No. Why?”

You grinned, baring your teeth. “Then you’ve seen nothing yet.”

\---

He was at the table you had been sitting the first night – but to be fair, there was no free table anywhere else, so that could be accidental. Matt being alone here? That didn’t feel like a coincidence. You swallowed the panic crawling up your throat. You were suddenly sure you had read it wrong. And you were about to make a complete-

“Hey,” you greeted him lightly and he raised his head from the bottle of beer he had been caressing, his lips curling up in a smile.

“Hi.”

You slid onto a chair opposite to him, trying to figure out what was happening in his head. He seemed nervous – that was new. It was actually calming, knowing someone like him could be nervous, even thought the reason in that was escaping you.

“Where’s Ron and Harry?”

Even behind the glasses, you could see his eyelashes flutter. “What?”

“Oh come on. You’re obviously Hermione. Karen looks like someone who pokes the bear – or a troll, so she’s definitely Harry and Foggy’s the good cheery friend, so he’s totally Ron. Though he could pull off Hermione with that hair,” you considered, seeing the honest smile you were waiting for. It was funny, how Matt’s uncharacteristic hesitance plucked up your courage. It helped that you went with book-talk, of course. ”And you’re here for them, to save their ass.”

“You might be surprised. Who are you in this analogy?”

You thought for a minute. You had no idea. Ginny? “I would go for Ginny, but that would mean I end up with Karen and she she’s not my type. I’m probably… Finch’s cat or something like that.”

He burst out laughing and then stopped abruptly as if he remembered something. “Doesn’t the cat die in the second book?”

You shrugged. “…I just shrugged. No, she survives. They cure her.”

“Right. Uhm… look, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday.” You froze. Apologize?

“It wasn’t your fault I lost against Foggy, you know. I had a good teacher,” you offered, shifting nervously. You knew that wasn’t what Matt was apologizing for; he must have realized you had hots for him and now he was sorry for making it look like he was interested. Which was ridiculous, of course. _Here it comes._

“I _did_ mess up the teaching part. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You licked your lips, thinking of the best way to dismiss the topic and bury it six feet under. It was really embarrassing, for both of you.

“I… misinterpreted some signs and pushed. I’m sorry,” he continued and you were sure that moment that your heart stopped.

“Whoa, Matt, wait. What are you talking about?” you blurted out, baffled. What signs?

His lips parted and he seemed to be confused as well. “About making you uncomfortable when… touching you. I didn’t realize until you left so quickly-”

What?!

“What? Matt, I left because— because I-” Oh god, you really had to say it, hadn’t you? _Goodbye, potential friendship._ “Because I was sure you noticed how I reacted. I was embarrassed…. About as much as I am now,” you added, wishing not only to bury this conversation, but also yourself.

“You-“ he choked out, closing his mouth for few seconds, thoughtful. “What gave you the idea of me minding how you reacted? Not that there was much of a reaction…”

You stared. There was something strange going on here. “…the lack of your reaction?”

That answer seemed to genuinely surprise him.

“Well, it seems like I messed up more than I thought then. I have a theory why I didn’t teach you right, you know.”

“You… you do?”

You had no freaking idea what was happening. You were getting some mixed signals here; right now, it almost looked like Matt was trying to… disprove your idea of him being unfazed by your interaction last night. Which… what?

“Mm. I was distracted.” He pushed the bottle of no doubt warm beer aside, leaning a little closer to you over the table. “You see, I had this beautiful woman basically in my arms-“

You blinked at the sudden change in his face, all doubts washed away from it, his lips curled up in a small sweet smile. Your breath hitched. This was the Matt you had met. Almost. Except… what the hell was he saying?

“-very nice perfume, soft hair tickling me-” The corner of his lips twitched higher for a second. “-laughing and bright, and I was thinking how far I could push my luck instead of actually teaching her play. I thought maybe I could walk her home, but she left so fast I didn’t get a chance to ask.”

You just… stared, listening to him in awe, unable to say a word yourself. Was he being serious? How— but-

“I was hoping she might even let me kiss her at the door, but… well.”

You chuckled incredulously, your left palm over your mouth, just like the first night, but this time for a completely different reason. You hesitantly reached for his hand resting on the… sticky table, god this bar really was specific, wasn’t it. His fingers curled around yours. You pressed your lips together, smiling like an idiot.

“The pool table is taken,” you noted, disappointed.

Knowing now that Matt might fumble around less accidently and more because he would be pushing his luck – what the hell, when that happened, _how_ that happened –, you were up for a do-over. Or for any possible prove of this not being just an imagination of your pervert mind.

“I can still walk you home,” he offered with a casual shrug, one corner of his lips up.

“Is that a serious offer? Because I might take you up on it.”

He squeezed your fingers lightly. “I was hoping you would.”

\---

You let him kiss you at your door, even though it took you a lot of effort not kiss him first; especially when he leaned into your space with the stupid adorable smile, caressing his nose with yours playfully, one hand on your elbow as he had caught it so you could lead him, fingers of his other hand in your hair.

“Was the stalling part of the original plan?” you mumbled, licking your lips, wishing for him just finally touch them.

“Mm.”

“A+ for teasing… but…”

His smile grew wider. “But?”

He was really enjoying it, wasn’t he? _Come on, be a little brave, girl._

“But I’m a good girl and it’s already dark and I need to go home, so-“ you pulled away barely an inch before his grip tightened and his lips caught yours in a chaste kiss. _Oh my god, yes._ The butterflies in your stomach were back.

“You’re not a good liar,” he whispered, his breath almost yours since he didn’t bother withdrawing.

“And yet here we are,” you breathed out, content, chasing the taste on your lips with your tongue. His mouth pressed against yours once more, taking your lower lip, lingering this time. Your hands clenched around his shirt. “Is this the part when you say goodnight?”

“No. This is the part when I ask you to dinner,” he whispered.

“And I say yes, right?”

“Mm. And you agree to meet me outside Josie’s at seven thirty tomorrow,” he cued you, not giving you a chance to protest.

He pulled you closer with the leverage on the back of your neck, connecting your mouths again, taking his sweet time caressing your lips, his tongue daring to run over the lower lip just once before shying away, teasing, offering a preview  of what could be. And he knew too well what he was doing, because pleasant warmth was spreading in your body and you were lost to this man completely. You had enough time for your hand travel up his arm and get tangled in his hair too, earning a soft approving hum from him. _Likes hands in his hair while kissing, noted._ You adjusted the angle to deepen the kiss, but you could feel him smiling, kissing you once more and retrieving.

“This is ‘to be continued’, isn’t it?” you asked breathlessly, your head definitely spinning.

Matt laughed silently, out of breath too. “Yeah.”

“I can live with that. Goodnight, Matt.”

“Goodnight.” He gave you last smile for that night, letting go of you, waiting until you closed the door before leaving.

\---

Hannah ambushed you basically the moment you opened your apartment door. ‘So are you gonna tell me-‘

“I have a crush.”

Your sister squinted at your lips, having troubles to read them since you couldn’t stop grinning like a madwoman. So you signed the rest:

‘And we just kissed.’

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I usually enjoy creating a backstory, but there _is_ something appealing about not having to do that. My brain actually can drink margaritas somewhere sunny and warm while writing. Also, I don’t really have to care how much Matt gets out of character? Oops. Also, creating a deaf sister to have a reason to move to New York and have a little experience with disabled? Go, me… *hits the air with her fist sarcastically*
> 
> I’m trying to avoid the y/n, y/l/n, y/h/c, y/e/c and I don’t know what else as much as I can, because it irritates me as a reader, so I hope you don’t mind.
> 
> This was written as a reader-insert right from the beginning. I had to delete she/her/hers like a zillion times, because I kept messing it up and now I’m guessing I’ll have to delete you/your/yours when I’ll be back to working on Damned. Lol. Anyway, the point is, this is sort of for frimousse I guess? Since she asked about this kind of work… I blame it on you. (some_fiction, don’t laugh, you’re not off the hook, you’re supporting bad behavior. Thanks for that, by the way)


End file.
